


Croissant Paws

by Starpotion



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Fluff, Kurapika's a cat, M/M, Modern Fairytale AU, Self-Indulgent, i can explain
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-13 04:09:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29645562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starpotion/pseuds/Starpotion
Summary: Kuroro tries to bribe the local cat with sweets. Kurapika just wants the man out of his house.
Relationships: Kurapika/Kuroro Lucifer | Chrollo Lucifer, Kuroro Lucifer | Chrollo Lucifer & Kurapika
Comments: 12
Kudos: 47





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was suppose to a simpler piece-a fluff dump-but my mind decided to expanded it into a full story. The proportions are now an appropriate 70% fluff, 25% actual plot, and 5% mandatory kurokura angst.
> 
> The story does take place in the modern setting, with 21st century technology, but at the same time we have a more fairy-tale location surrounding Kurapika's home. In my head, it was a cozy little building straight out of a children book.

Sunlight filtered through the spring leaves in gold patches. Kurapika welcomes the warmth. A content smile on his face as he checks that the fish from his recent hunt were still with him. They were. Fresh, and stored neatly in his pouch.

He trails after the glowing dots like a casual game, never straying from the main road, but following the circles as if he could capture the light with his shoes.

There was a skip to his steps as he passed a mound of moss carpeted stone, his cue for a detour. He inspects his surrounding cautiously. After seeing that he was indeed alone, he quickly weaved through the bushes that hid his little dirt path. 

The house was a bit far from the edge of town, nested almost in the direct center of the forest, but close enough to get in touch with civilization when he needed to. It would be careless of him to be found so easily. Supernatural beings dislike human company after all.

He reached home with a wide stretch, relieved to be finally able to get rid of his crude disguise. His ears puffing beneath the cap and his tail straightening graciously. The floor complained with a creak as he stepped into the kitchen to throw the fish in the underground cooler box. Nothing seemed to be suspicious so far.

He likes this quiet place. Although Kurapika was too shy to interact freely with the towns people, he was still happy to be away from Lukso, happy to begin the grand journey of world exploration he dreamt of as a child. He should send Pairo a letter soon. The weather here would be almost suitable for crop growing according to the Kurtan calendar.

A modest cabin would be a better description for his home. Small, two stories, with a balcony attached to the side, and a tidy fence to protect his garden looming in the back. His laundry line hung from a close tree to dry. The clothes were still wet, which was expected, considering he washed them in the river only this morning, but there wasn’t much time. His ears picked up the drop in temperature before his mind could, retreating into his hair. Howls of wind urged him to go inside. His tail swaying to maintain his balance as he reaped all the fabric into his arms in one motion and rushed toward the door. He dumped the pile on the floor. He’ll deal with it later. It was better to light a fire first and make sure that he had proper heating by the time the rain starts.

There was enough wood in stock. He gathered an arm full and placed them in the fire place. Kurapika had electricity, but was never dependent on it. It wasn’t part of his traditional lifestyle and old habits die hard.

Soon enough, droplets started to hit the window panels and the branches were visibly shaking. It was worse than he predicted, but nothing devastating. He’ll read a couple chapters of his favorite book, and life would soon back to be normal.

There was the lingering smell of sauteed fish in the air. He slouched in his comfy arm chair and took a sip from his cup of coffee. Bitter, the way he liked it. He had covered himself in a blanket that was much too large, swallowing his figure, exposing only the pages in his lap.

_Thud._

His ears twitch and Kurapika turned to look at the door. Whatever it was, it wasn’t near his house yet.

_Thud._

But it was coming closer.

He raised himself from his position, wary. He would need to lure any stranger away. Although rare, a few travelers would get lost and mistaken his place for abandon lodging. He wasn’t against giving them a place to rest. Woods are dangerous during the night, and despite the warnings he was taught, he couldn’t ignore humans when they were in obvious trouble. If he couldn’t herd them back on the main road in time, he could offer hospitality.

Once again, rare. He would rather his presence be left unknown.

Kurapika silently hoped that the traveler would go in another direction, to stop invading his territory. Despite his internal praying, the person was still heading toward the house. One or two more steps, and it would be in their sight.

Irritably tossing the blanket aside, Kurapika got up and headed out. He didn’t bother to grab any protective covering except for a cap to hide his ears. His tails slipped inside his robe with practiced ease. He lent his only umbrella to a medical student he met a few months ago and kept forgetting to buy a replacement. Leorio probably needed it more than him.

The water was sticking to his fur uncomfortably, even under the cap. He could hear muffles and shifting nearby. He tried smelling the air to find the person faster, but the damn rain was making it hard. A black coat peeked from behind a tree and Kurapika stalked toward it.

Just give the man some direction, some human markings that would point to the direction of town. He would clear another path is he had to. Magic made it easy enough.

Before he got closer, about a few meters away, he noticed a smell strong enough to over power the rain. Blood.

Kurapika’s movements were now silent. His stance lowered even further and his typical demeanor turned to one preparing for danger. It promptly turned into one of confusion, then concern as he notes the trickle of red flowing from the person’s side. The man appeared to be unconscious, perhaps from the pain, or blood loss, but the flow was steady and the color strikingly vibrant even diluted in the puddles.

Goodness.

There was so much of it. He needed treatment immediately!

He pulled the man onto his shoulders, a bit roughly, and began to run. His initial caution subdued by worries.

Why was the man this far away from town in the first place?

He haphazardly threw the stranger onto his bed, not caring that the front door was still swung wide open, or how his covers were now drenched. He took off his cap and chucked it into a corner, eager to get rid of the obstruction, and to better hear the man’s breathing. It was eerily calm so far, but that was good. He didn’t have any painkillers with him if it was needed.

He pulled out his first aid kit and dug through it in haste. He never used bandages much, only when he went against underestimated prey and got cuts that were too deep to be stopped by band aids, but he was glad that he still had plenty, especially in a situation like this. He grabbed a pair of scissors and was ready to treat the man when he felt something.

More specifically, a hand tugging his tail.

“Wow, I never expected a kitty.”

The intruder was holding his tail in one hand, still slouched on the bed. Eyes that were like sink holes and impossibly wide looking curiously into Kurapika’s.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m kind of wondering if I should have just started with this instead. This section explains the universe that they’re living in quite well. It only fits the summary starting from here, but the first chapter served as exposition, a little glimpse at the calm Kurapika had before Kuroro crashed into his life.

Kurapika settles with a huff. Ears flattening irritably while still facing the window. His hands pausing in the middle of his herb sorting on the kitchen counter.

“You can come down now. You’re not exactly quiet with your maneuvers.”

Messy hair, fixed in place with a white towel, emerged from the top of the stairs. A grin was present on that face, it’s owner not the least ashamed having been caught.

They’ve been doing this practically every day now, the visits without permission, ever since Kurapika found the man bleeding to death outside and brought him back to nurse him back to life. Kurapika didn’t plan to let anyone see him. Just bandage the person and send him to the nearest hospital, like he never existed, maybe even play into the role of a friendly local when left with no alternatives, then he’ll go back to his peaceful routine. But no, the dude had to wake up to see him without a disguise.

He had punched the man with enough force to knock him out back then. He usually wasn’t so violent, and he was well aware that his strength could have accidently broken a few bones in addition to the injury the man already possessed, but in his defense, what else was he suppose to do when his tail was grabbed without consent?

Kurapika hastily threw some disinfectant on where he thought the bleeding was coming from, and wrapped the area with ripped bandages. It didn’t matter that it might have been too tight and not neat in the slightest. He had been too focused on throwing the man out in anger and shock. His newly dressed patient was dropped off by the nearest house Kurapika found in town. The blonde escaping back into the forest after a couple of urgent knocks on the door.

He hoped that the incident would be remembered as a strange dream, and he wouldn’t have to deal with any consequences. Namely, the very tangible consequence lounging in his home at the moment.

Kuroro, the man with the sink hole eyes, didn’t think so apparently.

Kurapika looked lazily over to him.

“How did you even get in? I locked all the windows.” Kurapika scowled. He was sure he did, especially after the first couple of break ins.

“Locks are easy to pick.” Came the reply casually.

Kuroro pulled out a chair and sat down, leaning on the miniature table Kurapika had for when he ate his meals. It was only meant to serve one person. The man looked ridiculous with his long stature next to the tiny furniture. Kurapika wonders if he should say this, but decides against it. If he said anything, Kuroro might start to think that he cared.

He placed his bag on the table, and Kurapika knew it was filled with sweets. Another weird ritual. Every visit was supplemented with pastries, whether it was walnut cookies, peanut butter scones, or some other sweet treat. With that annoyingly pleasant voice, he would persuade Kurapika to try one. Like they were buddies, like he belonged there, which he certainly did not.

Kurapika grumbled, turning back to sort the mullein and bracken fern.

“Why do you keep coming back?” You’re not supposed to be here was left unspoken, but his glare conveyed that just as effectively.

“I wanted to repay you. You did save my life after all.”

“The best payment would be solitude, which I enjoy greatly, and can be fulfilled after you leave my house.”

“Oh, but that wouldn’t be enough,” Kuroro insisted. “I can provide so much more, and you deserve company. Besides, what if I decide to reveal your little hideout?”

Kurapika’s eyes narrowed at that.

“No one would believe you.” He answered flatly.

Creatures like him were only myths under the growing reign of technology. It’ll take more than words to convince anyone that he exists.

Kuroro smiles knowingly and continued.

“I think you’re interesting. I never believed in superstitions, but you’re not like anything I’ve seen. It’s only natural to be curious.”

It was almost admirable how persistent he was. Both in his arguments and actions to stick to the blonde, completely ignoring Kurapika’s efforts to direct him back to town-with added signs and newly cleared routes.

Kurapika suppressed an eye roll. He simply glowered at Kuroro, and was greeted with a widening smile. All teeth.

“I brought croissants this time. You should try one.”

Kuroro reached into the bag and pulled out the pastry, offering another one to Kurapika-which he didn’t reach for.

“You should spend your time better. Instead of bothering me.”

How did he even have time for this? Weren’t humans living under the motto that ‘fast means best’? No one should have the time to pester an unknown being secluded in a shrinking forest, especially not a college student.

He learned the fact, as it was told to him without anything to block the information out when Kuroro talked in his multiple soliloquies. Truthfully, Kurapika had only a general gist on the human hierarchy of education. Most of his assumptions came from his talk with Leorio. Things operated differently, and changed too quickly in the human world. Maybe it’s because their times were dated differently, one by centuries, and the other in measly single digits. Regardless, he was fairly certain that it was a time period when someone could chug as much coffee as they desired without being judged, and learning as much as they can about their beloved subject through textbooks as thick as bricks and twice as dense.

Leorio said it was hell, but Kurapika thought it might as well be his personal heaven. He wonders why Kuroro would detach himself from that, and choose to bother someone, something, who doesn’t even belong in the realm of modernity

“I wanted a break.” Kuroro replied. He nibbled at the edge of his croissant; makings sure that Kurapika was listening before going on.

“Sometimes, it gets overwhelming. Don’t get me wrong, I love my major, and I don’t mind the work. It’s just that it all seems like a system to get society’s approval, not to prove anything to myself. The place where I grew up, it’s . . . not ideal. I had to crawl my way to the top, and I wonder if everyone had to face this, or if it’s all implemented to target people like myself-to make sure that we stay at the bottom.”

His voice got smaller as he spoke, gentler.

“I didn’t want to be another massed produced individual, if that makes sense. I have goals that I want to accomplish, but I’m not sure if I chose the right way to achieve it.”

Kurapika was silent, moving to wash the herbs in the sink while he let Kuroro’s words stay with him a bit longer.

He supposed he could relate to that. He thought he wanted to explore the outside world, it was why he left Lukso, but here he was in a cabin-too afraid to talk to most people and afraid of rejection for being the creature he was.

“I think I can understand that.” Kurapika supplied earnestly.

He understood, but he would still prefer that Kuroro’s choice of a break wasn’t breaking and entering into his house. Even if he was ‘interesting’ by Kuroro’s standards, he wasn’t going to allow himself to be analyzed like some sort of specimen.

“Still, I’m not something to be studied. Frankly, I’m insulted.” His tail puffing as he remembered the incident. He wasn’t something to be touched.

“I think you misunderstood my intentions. I want to know you as a person. It was your decision that intrigued me. As I said, I want to repay you. Most people would have left me bleeding to death.” He paused to chew his croissant.

“As for the tail grabbing, my apologies. I’ve never seen anything that fluffy, and it looked incredibly soft. I understand that it must have been uncomfortable for you, and I’m truly sorry for making you feel that way.”

It sounded surprisingly genuine.

For a moment, Kurapika didn’t know how to respond. The man was injured at the time, and the tail grabbing was likely unintentional. He probably shouldn’t have thrown Kuroro at someone else’s door step. His conditions could have worsened because of it. It wasn’t right. Thinking about made his stomach twist in mild guilt.

Glare softening, he glanced over and saw that Kuroro had already finished his treat. Kurapika’s own was place on a napkin, waiting to be eaten. Kurapika eyed it.

“How are your injuries?” He asked, letting some emotion other than annoyance seep into his tone. “I didn’t pay much attention to it last time. Are you feeling better?”

“I’m fine. It wasn’t anything serious.”

He noticed that Kuroro didn’t dwell on the subject.

“How did you get injured anyways, and why were you so far away from town?”

“I was chased by some people. Thieves I suppose.”

Kurapika nodded, but it didn’t seem right. He knew that some bandits did lurk in the area, but it was a much wider range and his house wasn’t typically included. It would have been too early. It wasn’t even evening when he found Kuroro. Ambushes aren’t effective that way.

He tossed the herbs into their respective baskets. Kurapika knew that Kuroro was staring, but he doesn’t say anything.

In addition, they tend to stick on the main road. His dirt path wasn't worth any attention. And money from him? He reminded himself of Kuroro’s tacky clothing.

The man never answered his original question, why was he out of town?

And the blood. The blood. He couldn’t identify the source. It had all been an evenly distributed mess on Kuroro’s muscles, and it got fainter when he carried him into town. Dulled by the rain despite their proximity.

Like it wasn’t from Kuroro in the first place.

“What did you lose exactly? And how did you wander so far into the forest?” He pressed further.

“You never answered my question Kuroro. Why were you away from town?”

He didn’t see any traveling supplies when he brought Kuroro home. 

“I didn’t lose anything. I guess it’s because of that, they got angry. Maybe they just wanted to silence a witness. I was too afraid, and couldn’t see very well. I was just trying to get away. I was on a walk that day. The weather seemed nice. I told you I was looking for a break.”

A pause.

The herbs were all sorted by now and Kurapika wipes his hand on rag he placed nearby. Taking time to carefully wipe his fingers before turning to look at Kuroro, who was sitting with his legs crossed and arms folded. Like a proper student waiting for the teacher to call on him.

“It’s impossible to find my house on the main road.”

It wasn’t even connected to it. He would have had to take a detour and weave around several bushes to get even remotely close.

His frown was back, and his glare turned warningly sharp.

“You were never injured in the first place, were you?”

Kuroro blinks, and forms a semi-sheepish smile, but it only grated Kurapika’s nerves more.

“I guess that wasn’t a very convincing lie.”

This insufferable _basta_ -

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always had a different mental image for Chrollo and Kuroro (yes yes, I’m aware that he's the same person). I would always envision Chrollo with the slicked back hair and leather coat, the boss of the Phantom Troupe-unreadable in every way. Kuroro would have the messy hair and towel around his forehead-a bit playful, and still dangerous, but younger and more open to the world. 
> 
> I wanted to make a note of this since I automatically type in either Chrollo or Kuroro depending on the version in my head. I might slip up sometimes in the future with the sudden change in spelling, when that happens, here’s the explanation why.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pakunoda is officially Kuroro's love counselor.

Kuroro didn’t trust Hisoka, but he was intrigued by what the clown had to say.

It was only a rumor, but a strange being was sighted in the forest by the outskirts of town. He heard Hisoka whisper to Illumi as they exited the lecture hall. A beast, merciless and standing over two meters tall, with claws that could shred flesh like scissors to paper.

Illumi, as expected, ignored him.

It was certainly interesting. The tales proposed by the red-haired man were wild speculations, nothing short of dramatic horrors described in grotesque details, but he could tell there were hints of truth behind them. Anything that could catch Hisoka’s attention was worth his time, even if his logical mind argued that it was all gibberish.

If Kuroro had any focus in his erratic thoughts and actions, it was always to satisfy his thirst for knowledge. No matter how slim the possibility of gaining it was. After all-there wasn’t much to lose but himself. So, he paid closer attention to the conversation between the pair, picking up words and a general direction to find this odd thing.

It was how he ended up in Pakunoda’s office, another bruise over his eye on the one recently recovered. Injury inflicted by the same odd thing he had been intrigued by.

“You should visit an actual clinic. This is a veterinarian office. I may not have suitable supplies.” It was meant to be a complaint, but she sounded amused. 

Kuroro shrugged.

It was close and affordable, affordable as in free, and he knew that Paku didn’t mind.

Her animal clinic was doing well. It wasn’t anything grand, acting as a shelter for strays majority of the time, but it was popular among the locals and stable. A few more years, and her college debt would be fully paid off. She’ll be unbound and free to pursue her passion. This was her dream, back in Meteor city, saving lives that others deem insignificant while coming from a place that treats all lives equally, and like trash.

“How did you get hurt this time? Is it the forest creature again?”

Kurapika didn’t explicitly state that he couldn’t tell anyone, just that no one would believe him.

Kuroro nods. He leans over the counter, reaching toward the cat she was inspecting, and retreated it quickly when it tried to swipe his index finger with its claws.

“He’s difficult to understand, but hardly unapproachable. I think he’s more defensive than anything.” The blonde was feisty, but had nothing truly malicious.

“I see. That’s assuring to hear, but you shouldn’t try anything you can’t handle. That habit of yours is going to get you killed some day.” Paku said, concerned. She had faith in Kuroro’s capabilities, but the man was prone to test the boundaries of them.

The cat was looking at him with caution. Pupils dilated into slits. Much like Kurapika had when they first met.

Kurapika was strange. Not only in the physical sense. Kuroro wonders exactly who he was, where he came from, and why he was living in the woods alone. Besides the pointed ears and exceptionally fluffy tail, he looked perfectly human. His actions were peculiar as well.

Why bother helping a stranger if he risked exposing himself?

He decided to investigate the rumors after collecting enough data from his eavesdropping. He had indeed gotten lost, that part of the story was true. Directions weren’t his strong suit, but he bluffed a confident gait. Posture was half the effort in tricking someone.

He anticipated a wild and vulgar beast from Hisoka’s description, and asked Paku for a bag of blood to use as a distraction in case he needed to escape. It was just the scouting stage. He didn’t expect to find a house, or have a humanoid figure approach him. He hid himself out of reflex. His days on the streets taught him that staying in the shadows granted an advantage to practically any scenario.

He poured the blood on top of himself in an attempt to fool the creature to think that he was weakened, to lure it into range before he could strike with the pocket knife hidden in his sleeves. Instead, he felt thin but strong arms brace him and carry him somewhere warm.

Was it going to eat him?

With his eyes barely half an inch open, he tried to inspect the new surroundings. Kuroro soon realized that there was nothing to worry about.

The creature . . . the boy, from what he could tell under the flickering light of presumably a fire place, was digging desperately through a medical kit. Two furry triangles poked out of a bundle of lemon colored hair. It helped add to his height, but he would still be shorter than Kuroro even if he stepped on his tippy toes.

Compared to the mental imagery of a savage brute he had fed himself, this person was objectively just a kitten.

There were no flesh ripping claws in sight, just a distractingly poofy tail swishing in front of him.

He grabbed onto it without much thought, and was sent into unconsciousness immediately after.

In hindsight, the action was uncharacteristically foolish of him. The whole situation was. He should be using Kurapika as another bargaining chip, threaten him with the secret he holds. 

“You haven’t been skipping classes to make time for this, have you?”

“It’s fine. I know how to handle myself. You know how classes work. It doesn’t matter if I show up or not.”

The visits were during his spare time anyways. Kuroro didn’t sleep.

“I doubt that it’s necessary for you to visit him every day.”

She moved to get a needle, petting the cat on its’s head. It perked up when the hand was on its forehead, docile and completely still.

“He’s interesting. I want to learn more about him, and you know I always loved cats.”

Paku studied him with a raised brow, her way of saying that she wasn’t buying it. She got the shot ready, whispering encouragements as the cat stiffened, and finished the procedure with a gentle pat.

“You should at least stop trying to get him to eat sweets. If he’s really part cat like you said, then the things you’ve been feeding him probably increased his chances with heart diseases.”

Kuroro gave a hum in response.

Maybe that’s why Kurapika has rejected his offers until now. Such a shame. He didn’t try the croissant he got for him last time either. He thought the buttery bread matched Kurapika’s fur.

The cat was placid in Paku’s lap now. Purring softly as she soothes the knots on its back, and looking at her with so much more love than the tiny body should have been capable of.

Kuroro, admittedly, felt a bit envious.

\---

He got cake rolls this time. Not actually got, because he didn’t pay for them, but the owner of the shop, Bisky, shoved them into his arms after he charmed his way into her heart and insisted for him to take them. Who was he to deny her?

The walk to Kurapika’s was confusing, and had even more distance between the dingy apartment complex Kuroro secured through totally legal means and his university, maybe purposefully so. The same turns seem to lead to a different place every time. He wonders if it’s Kurapika’s doing, something to do with the magic that belongs to him.

After hours of turning, and circling a large heap of moss covered stone, a familiar wooden structure was in sight. Along with a familiar scowl, and its wearer sinking lower into his position to express his discontent. He was tending the garden this time. His blue robe was meticulous, the golden lining effectively catching the sun’s ray in the afternoon, but the edges of his pants were dirtied by the soil. He wiped the sweat off his forehead with a gloved hand, and regarded Kuroro with an unimpressed look. Kurapika always seemed to be doing something: collecting firewood, doing laundry, returning from a hunt, always on the move. It was a self-sustaining development, and Kuroro could respect that.

He greeted with an easy going smile-too wide to be natural he thinks. The action made his cheeks ache, but it was what people preferred. Kuroro hoisted the bag above the fence to show the blonde.

The unimpressed look morphed into a glare, but Kurapika didn’t say anything. Not even his usual snarky remarks.

Oh.

This was different.

Maybe he did go too far last time.

He made a move to hop over the enclosure, but Kurapika pointed the shovel toward him in warning, daring Kuroro to take another step. The glare deepened.

“ . . . Why did you come back?” The shovel was still raised, but the intimidation factor was halved in his kneeling position. The sun flower hat he wore making his already small size even smaller.

He would have to handle this delicately, or he might be truly banned, or stabbed with a gardening appliance on the spot.

“I know that this won’t mean much, but I am sorry for lying last time. I was looking for you that day. Rumors were circulating, and I wanted to find out more myself.” He began with a confession. Deception wasn’t an option now that he lost his right to innocence.

“It was a coincidence that I discovered you. It wasn’t my plan to deceive you, nor was it my intention to pretend to be injured. I didn’t tell you this beforehand because I felt like it would only drive you away. I do, truthfully, want to get to know you better. There’s not much I can do to prove this, but I don’t want to hurt you. Just let me stay, please?” He finishes awkwardly.

The silent treatment was back, and his smile was hard to maintain, but he could wait. Kuroro was a patient man. There could only be two outcomes to this. He would either be sent away so the latter could have more time to think, or he would be punched again and have two black eyes instead of one.

Kurapika’s fur was almost white under the sunlight, the sort of faint beige on vanilla cookies. His brownish eyes had a red tinted haze to them, possibly a reflection from the adjacent tomato vines. His gaze was more intense. Kuroro knows that he should feel threatened, especially when Kurapika rose, drops the shovel, and walks toward him. Gaze piercing like he was going to throttle him.

To his astonishment, Kurapika opens the gate to let him in. Though they both knew he could get in just fine.

“I’ll be back. You, stay here.” Kurapika says calmly, taking off his gloves and adjusting his hat to maximize the shade it provided.

He came back in seconds, with a tray of tea. Kuroro, thoroughly dumbfounded at this point, follows him as he guides them to a nearby resting spot, a wooden cave of curved trees with stumps, and promptly gives Kuroro a look that tells him to sit down and explain.

The bag he brought was placed between them, a metaphorical barrier.

“You can take that fake smile off your face. It’s not going to do you any good.” Kurapika says, arms crossed on his chest.

He needs more practice, Kuroro thinks as he complies, replacing it with a neutral look he was comfortable with.

“Where did you hear about the rumors?”

“A clown.”

Kurapika grimaced.

“That seems very unreliable.”

“I agree, but I still managed to find you.”

“Did anyone else hear about this?”

“He was sharing the information with someone, but I doubt that that person cares.”

Kurapika made a noise of frustration, planting himself at a spot next to Kuroro that was a good distance away, but within an arm’s reach. He was fiddling with the rim of his hat, bringing it down to hide his features.

From Kuroro’s perspective, the damage had already been done. The blonde was focusing too much on the past. Worrying didn’t accomplish anything. They should move onto other matters.

Like the cake rolls he had for hours, but were still uneaten.

He didn’t like his desserts soggy.

“I got cake rolls this time. One of my friends likes them. I hope that you do too.” He says, trying to divert from the topic.

Cake rolls were Kortopi’s favorite. Machi probably likes them too. Meteor city didn’t have place for these luxuries, and having these pastries within reach felt both odd and gratifying.

“You lied to me. How do you expect me to trust you now?”

Perhaps it was unrealistic to move on so soon.

Kuroro tilts his head, thoughtful.

He didn’t know. All he knew was that he liked their gatherings, the half-arguments-half-conversations, and sharing his sweets with another person, even if the said person didn’t outright appreciate the gesture.

He takes a cup of tea, admiring the details on the porcelain cups, and blew across the caramel surface. It was slightly fruity, smelled like flowers, and burned his tongue when he took a sip. His expression didn’t change as he gave his answer.

“I don’t know, but I want you to.”

The answer was terribly vague, but it was the best he could give at the moment.

Kuroro was surprised for the second time of the day when Kurapika picks up a cake roll and takes a small bite out of it. He didn’t seem to dislike it, although his thin frown suggested that it wasn’t what he expected.

“I thought that maybe my previous choices were too sweet, so I had the baker switch the cream filling into red bean paste. This should be less sweet.”

Paku’s advice had an influence as well. He wanted his new companion to live a long and prosperous life.

Kurapika curls in on himself. Tail curving around his waist and the ears twitching nervously. Kuroro finds himself looking at his eyes again. They were much brighter now, and he wonders if it’s really a trick of the light. They seemed to be as red as the fresh strawberry stripes sprinkled on top of the cake they were eating.

“Stop staring at me. It’s creepy.”

“It’s much more appetizing to watch someone else eat.”

Kurapika rolls his eyes but doesn’t challenge the statement.

“You should bring books instead. They’re better gifts.” He mumbles as he takes another bite.

Book, yes, he could get books. He has copies in his library: skits from plays, English literature, research articles, and fictional adventures. He could-

Kuroro barely registers that he was given permission to visit more.

A grin blooms on his face, and it didn’t make his cheeks ache like before. He doesn't know what to make of this sudden change in attitude, but it wasn’t like him to dwell on the process as long as he obtained the result he wanted. 

This, was a start. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know what happened during the last 500 words of the chapter, but it didn't come out right. Everything was in clumps. Maybe it's because I've been reworking that portion for days now and my brain just wanted to get rid of it. (Seriously, are there any synonyms for 'ears'?)
> 
> Hopefully, it's not as bad as I think it is. 
> 
> I'm going to focus on adding chapter titles and summaries for now. Something fun.


End file.
